


The Big House

by AlexisLuthor



Category: DCU, Smallville
Genre: M/M, Prison, Prison Sex, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2020-02-04 09:30:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18601780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexisLuthor/pseuds/AlexisLuthor
Summary: Lex is in prison thanks to Superman, but he may need more from the Kryptonian than policing.





	1. Chapter 1

Lex was surprised to hear that he had a visitor. Lionel was dead, Hope and Mercy were busy helping run his empire in his absence, and he didn't have any friends. Part of him wanted to refuse the visit, but his curiosity got the best of him - as always. 

 

This place was a nightmare come to life, and if a fifteen minute reprieve was the only way to escape this hellscape, he'd take it.

 

Perhaps the worst part of being here was how dehumanizing it was. He had to strip when he first got here, bend over and cough, have a cavity search, take ice cold showers surrounded by men much larger than him who leered in his direction. Even his cellie said that it'd be just a matter of time before he got it up the ass.

 

Terror. 24/7 terror. Prison was warfare, and Lex was ill-equipped to fight that war. His power was in his intelligence and money, not in brute strength. He was a good fighter, he could take care of himself against a few "normal-sized" guys. But some of the men in Metropolis Penitentiary were colossal and battle hardened. It was at least lucky that Lex healed fast, but he was far from invincible...like...

 

…Superman...

 

His eyes fell upon the primary-clad alien as he entered the solitary room. There was no glass or anything, but the guard who'd escorted him made sure to chain his handcuffs to the table. He moved to chain his feet as well, but the Kryptonian waved him away. 

 

The beady eyed guard smiled, hoping that the man of steel would add to Luthor's bruises, he even said as much as he left the room; a statement that made Superman cringe inside.

 

The door shut and a suffocating silence descended upon the pair. 

 

"Why are you here?" Lex asked.

 

Superman swallowed, "to see if you're okay."

 

"Do I look okay to you?"

 

Superman bit his bottom lip and stared down at the stainless steel table. No. Lex didn't look okay. He had a black eye under his right eye, a gash on his forehead and his cheek, a split lip and what looked like a rug burn on his chin. 

 

"Who did this to you?"

 

"Does it matter? Even if I knew I wouldn't tell a soul. Do you know what they do to snitches in here?"

 

"This isn't..."

 

"Isn't what? You put me in here, you Crayola colored bastard. What did you think would happen? It's only a matter of time..."

 

"What's only a matter of time."

 

"Until that knife that slashed my face ends up in my heart or my abdomen. Until those leering bafoons get the chance to shove their cocks up my ass."

 

Superman's face blanched.

 

"They were undoing their pants when the guards finally got to us, pressing my head down into the ground, hence the chin," he pointed."

 

"Lex..." Superman whispered, using his first name, which was absurdly unusual. 

 

"What? Questioning your decision to surround a morally ambiguous man with an endless supply of criminals? Nah, you did the right thing, I'm sure that IF I come out, I'll come out a good guy for sure." 

 

Superman's mouth was dry and his heart was racing. Whatever happened or would happen to Lex, would be his fault. 

 

"And to think, all I did was go around some stringent rules to get medicine developed faster."

 

"I'm not going to argue with you about what you did and why it was wrong."

 

Lex nodded, leaned forward, the metal of his handcuffs clanking loudly. He looked Superman over and worried the split on his lip with his tongue. "You know what the irony is...Clark?" 

 

Superman's eyes went wide and his mouth parted in surprise. 

 

"I always thought it would be your cock of steel in my throat...up my ass...that I would have enjoyed."

 

Superman's cheeks were stained wine red and the flush creeped down his neck. The words made him hard and he wanted to get as far away as possible.

 

"But I guess these gangsters are going to beat you to it. You always were clueless weren't you? In Smallville...as a teenager...now as an adult. If I'm going to go out via shiv in the yard, you might as well know that while they're busy raping me, I'll pretend you're fucking me consensually instead."

 

Clark was speechless. 

 

Lex looked over at the door and shouted, "guard!"

 

The beady eyed man returned.

 

"I think Superman and I are done here."


	2. Chapter 2

The only thing more dangerous than the absence of Superman was having a distracted Superman. But that's all Clark could offer the citizens of Metropolis after his visit with Lex at Met Penn. 

 

The superhero's thoughts kept wandering back towards Lex like metal shavings drawn to a magnet. He couldn't shake the encounter from his mind for a variety of reasons, which meant he was performing his duties on autopilot. 

 

He wasn't naïve no matter how Lex remembered his teenage self. He'd grown up a lot since Smallville and was wise enough to know that every word coming from Luthor's mouth during their visit was a carefully crafted verbal tactic. The bruises that ripened from green to purple like grapes, marring Lex's alabaster skin, coupled with the guilt eliciting words was meant to break him apart - get him to relent. Despite knowing this, Clark still felt guilty, which only served to piss him off. 

 

Lex had a way of needling into his psyche in a way no one else could. He was a criminal, regardless of their time together as friends. The days of their Smallville friendship were a hazy golden memory that lived tucked away in Clark's past. Those memories belonged buried beneath the murky water that he had first pulled Lex from after getting hit by the Porsche. Yet, they kept bobbing to the surface, gasping for air, begging for Clark's revival.

 

Every time he saw Lex, the past collided with the present. Knowing that the mastermind was behind bars didn't seem to fix anything. Part of him felt like he had put his friend in jail, even though the relationship was long dead. For being dead though, it felt alive, swirling in Lex's metallic gray eyes, living in the tilt of his head and the cadence of his words. Luthor was no less mesmerizing than he was 12 years ago. It was as if he literally had not aged at all. That prospect made hope leap up in Clark's chest since the ship had told him all those years ago that he would far outlive everyone he'd ever know. Some part of his soul rejoiced with the notion of Lex being a bit immortal, which in no way shape or form fit with his anger towards the bald billionaire.

 

It seemed that every emotion came to life when it came to Lex. Hatred tempered by affection, disdain matched with awe, frustration leveled by hope. Basically, Clark felt like a play toy of Lex's and it was beyond infuriating. He wanted to gain some semblance of control. He willed his emotions to stop battling one another. He tried desperately to focus on his work. He should feel nothing but indifference towards Luthor - the operative word being "should." 

 

But what if Lex did get hurt in prison? Most people...or cops...would tell themselves that such things were out of their hands, that they'd done their job and they were finished. Too bad nothing was ever finished with Lex. The pair were intrinsically linked, practically bound by fate, and Clark thought about that a lot. 

 

It kept his eyes wide open in the dead of night, staring through his ceiling and the floors above until he could see the stars. Even the sight of the twinkling sky didn't soothe him like it usually did. He shook the x-ray vision away and rolled over in bed, grasping his pillow and forcing his eyes shut. 

 

Thoughts rolled like waves inside his skull and it felt like drowning. Lex knew his identity. He knew it and he wasn't even using it to blackmail Superman into getting him out of prison. What was that about? Of course Lex figured out who Superman was...how could he not? He was too smart and had too many resources not to. But still...he kept the secret...he kept it as if to say, 'you should have just trusted me with it all those years go. See how good I am at keeping it? I won't even use it against you as an adversary.' 

 

It made Clark angry that Lex hadn't tried to use his identity as leverage. It made him seem sane, and trust worthy and...noble or something. Gag.

 

Or maybe Lex was just biding his time, waiting to use as leverage for something bigger. What could be worse than Metropolis Penitentiary though? 

 

Clark's brain ached. He rolled to his other side. Lex nearly got raped. By a bunch of thugs. In prison. He'd put him in prison. How could he ever get over that? How would he ever have recovered if Lex had been raped? 

 

The knot in Kent's stomach tightened and his face grew hot as blood roared in his ears. The thought of anyone laying a hand on Lex made him want to scream. The thought of someone violating Lex? Clark's vision went red and he tasted blood. His eyes were glowing, burning like embers, threatening to incinerate the apartment - and his pillow erupted in a mass of feathers. He didn't realize he was squeezing so tight. 

With an exasperated sigh he pulled out another pillow to sleep on, feathers still falling from the ceiling like slow motion confetti.

One thing in particular really stuck in Clark's head. Lex had said that it would always be...him...Superman, Clark...to...to...fuck him.

Remembering the look on Lex's face as he uttered those words in the stark interrogation room made Clark instantly hard. Lex wanted him, but which him? Was it a power game? It couldn't be...Lex had talked about bottoming. "Fuck," Clark breathed, the word falling on no ears but his own.

 

He wasn't an idiot, just slow enough for it to take him until college to recognize all of Lex's lingering looks for what they were. 

Lex wanted Clark all those years ago, that was apparent. But to want him now? Or...want Superman now? After putting him in jail even? The thought was baffling but his body responded violently quick to the lewd picture Luthor painted. 

He couldn't help but imagine being imprisoned with Lex. Would he hear the billionaire fucking his own hand at night? Would Lex lure him to the showers to soap him up and then fuck him? Clark imagined eating with Lex, keeping a cell with him, talking to him constantly, listening to his breathing at night. And for one insane moment, Clark Kent longed to be in Luthor's cell - a captive among the criminal.

He felt dirty when his fingers slipped beneath his boxers and pulled them down to pump his erection. Lex Luthor wanted him. And though his mind protested, Clark's body wanted him just as much.


	3. Chapter 3

"I have to admit, I'm surprised to see you," Lex drawled. His hands were cuffed to the table as they were last time. But for this interaction, Superman and Lex were in a visitors room, rather than an interrogation room. 

"Your bruises have healed," Superman said, unsure of what else to say. 

"I heal freakishly fast...but you already know that," Lex shifted in his seat. "Plus, it's been a week since I've seen you. That's a long enough time to heal." 

"It is," Superman agreed. He shifted on his feet, resisting the urge to pace. 

"How are things?" 

"Things have gotten much better. Adding cucumbers and lemon to the water has done wonders for my complexion. They've added a rowing machine and massage table to the workout suite. Switching from cotton pillows to down was a good move..."

"Shut up," Clark said suddenly. "You know what I mean."

Lex raised an eyebrow. The "shut up" was very un-Superman like. It also felt personal, like it belonged in an argument between family or friends or...lovers. 

"You sound exasperated...." Lex leaned forward, his eyes hooded, "....Clark." 

Superman's eyes widened, his head swiveling around to see if there was surveillance in the room. Lex followed his gaze. "What? Worried I'll out you?" 

"Why haven't you outed me? If you knew, like you say you did...and you hate me."

"I don't hate you," Lex interjected. 

Superman's brows knitted. "Could have fooled me," he muttered, crossing his arms and giving in to pacing. "You've tried to kill me...you've hurt me...you...you make my life so..."

"Interesting?" 

"Hard." 

Lex scoffed. "You frustrate me, but I don't hate you. If I had your powers..."

"We'd all be fucked," Superman finished. 

Lex's expression was pure shock. America's Boy Scout didn't speak like that. Hell, he doubted Superman's alter ego, Clark Kent, even spoke like that. Lex had really gotten under his skin and that realization sent a pleasurable tingle down his spine. 

Clark was caught up in thought, it took him a moment to see the look of open surprise gracing Lex's face. When it vanished, a deeply satisfied look took its place. Lex was enjoying this. Of course he was. 

"I should go," Superman said suddenly. 

Luthor's face fell. "No." He stood abruptly and was snapped back to the table that chained him. He yanked at them, but obviously the steel table bolted to the floor wasn't going to move. 

Superman enjoyed hearing Lex's protest to the idea of him leaving.

"Why should I stay?"

"Why did you come in the first place? To give me the hope of having a visitor only to cruelly snatch it away?" 

Superman gulped. Why had he come? He wanted to check on Lex. Truth be told, he could have just flown over the prison and x-rayed it. Or landed on the roof and watched Lex sleep. Hearing those idea echoed in his thoughts made them sound creepy and stalker-ish. Also...watching from afar didn't afford Clark the opportunity to speak to Lex...to be in the same room, breathing the same air. 

"Maybe I wanted to come because for the first time, you're not hatching some plot, or sticking a knife into me, or standing on your soapbox waxing on about...something or other," he waved his hand.

"So you thought that you'd just stop by and what? Bond with me? Try to turn me a little less evil?" Lex grinned, still standing. "Maybe if we're going to bond, you could get these lovely bracelets off me? It's not like I can hurt you." 

Clark's eyes went to the handcuffs then to Lex's face. Lex didn't hate him. Lex was willing to talk to him.

"Unless you're into bondage," Lex's eyes glittered. The statement was daring and he was worried for a moment that he'd fluster the alien and he'd bolt. But he didn't. 

"I can ask the guard but..."

"What for?" Lex laughed. "Just snap them off."

"It'll ruin the cuffs..."

Lex rolled his eyes. "For shit's sake," he strained, the metal clanking. 

"Just...snap these off for me...and I'll answer a question for you. Any question you want," Lex dangled the quid pro quo. 

Superman didn't move at first, but finally, he strode towards Lex. He got a little closer than he needed to, but it was nice, feeling the warmth radiate off Lex, feeling his breath ghost over him. It made something squirm in Clark's stomach, so rather than focus on it, he reached out and snapped the chain of the cuffs. 

Lex watched the movement with his eyes, then looked up at Clark with an usual...stare. Clark felt a wave of heat flush through his body beneath Lex's gaze that was nothing short of lustful. 

"Thank you," Luthor rubbed his wrists. He relished the thought that the guards would undoubtedly wonder what happened...why Superman had freed him on purpose.

"Now for my question."

"Oh, I hope it's a good one." Lex had expected questions about world domination, his less than above-board projects, any possible escape plans he may be hatching. Lex hopped up on the steel table to sit and hear his question like a cat jumping to the counter to wait for milk. 

Clark was torn...there were so many questions he might ask in this moment. But receiving an answer didn't necessarily equate to truth. Lex had granted him this rare opportunity to ask whatever he wanted...but knowing Lex - he would twist whatever he said to his liking. He was a brilliant man, and he certainly wouldn't give away more than he wanted to. 

Superman's mouth opened, lips parted, but no words came out. He shut it and sighed, then tried again. "Do you remember anything from...2003 to 2013?"

Lex's face scrunched in confusion. "That's what you want to ask me?" he said incredulously. It certainly seemed an awfully big waste for such an opportunity. 

"Yes, Can you just answer me?" 

Lex nodded yes. Thought about it. Then answered, "no, not really." 

If Luthor wasn't so well versed in the art of body language and micro-expressions, he might not have caught the slight draw to Superman's expression. It was a minute shift - tiny really - but for a moment, Superman looked crestfallen.

"Why would you ask that question when there are so many others that could be more valuable?" 

Superman suddenly had the urge to put his hands in his pockets, but alas, he had none. 

"I thought about asking how you figured out my identity..."

"Now that's a question!" Lex emphasized, waving his hands. "Why on earth would you pick the one you did?" genuine curiosity crept into his tone.

"I don't have to answer your questions Le...Luthor," he cleared his throat. 

Lex took a breath. He didn't have to, but he decided to offer more. 

"I remember bits and pieces from that time, but not much."

Superman's head snapped up, his eyes focusing intently. 

"Which is a damn shame when you think about it. That was my entire 20s..."

Superman looked sad again. 

"Maybe that's why being in prison doesn't bother me quite so much. I've already lost a decade, what's a few more years?" 

Something lurched in Superman's chest and he fought the urge to cry. He got a very clear, crisp image of Lex before him, fixing his bowtie in the loft before prom. 

"I feel robbed," Lex said into his own chest, his head downcast. Superman had taken silent steps forward and ended up in front of him without his knowing. When he looked up, he was closer to the alien than he'd ever been before. His skin was blemish-free, his pores non-existent, his eyes like a splash of arctic water on a blistering day. 

"I'm sorry Lex," his voice nearly broke. He put a hand on the billionaire's bicep in a gesture of comfort, but the man hissed and moved his arm. 

"Wh...what's wrong?" Clark asked, looking at Lex's arm, then his face. 

"Nothing, it's nothing," Lex lied. He wanted to get away from Superman now, but he was sort of trapped, sitting on the table with the alien in front of him. 

"You got hurt again," dawning realization flooded his tone. 

"Not badly."

"Lex!"

Luthor looked embarrassed. All of his smug, eat-shit, guilt trip tone from their first meeting was long gone. 

"Let me see."

"Wh? No."

"Yes!"

"Just...just use your x-ray vision or something, but, only on my arm." That was suspicious.

"No."

"Why not?" 

"I don't...I don't use it to look beneath people's clothes, just let me see!" 

"I can't roll my sleeve up that high."

"Why did you say to look only at your arm? Where else were you hurt?" Superman more gingerly returned his hand to the bicep and smoothed his thumb over the prison orange. At his touch, a shockwave of desire crashed through Lex. It was hard for him to keep focus enough to continue the argument. 

"It doesn't matter."

"It does to me."

"Why?" 

"Please Lex?" Superman sounded pained, desperate. 

"No," Lex insisted. "What are you going to do? Kiss it and make it better? If that's the case, the boo boo is on my cock." 

Superman's cheeks instantly turned pink and his pupils went wide. 

"That's what you're worried about isn't it? That someone's gone and raped me?" 

"Have they?" a twitch at the corner of his eye. 

"Not yet, but many have made comments. They eye me like hungry vultures in the showers...sometimes jerking off right in front of me as they spew their rape fantasies...

Superman's lip trembled.

"But you know how to stop their little fantasies? Their scheming? Their hurting me?" 

"How?" 

Lex stood, despite having no room. He and the super freak were closer than toe to toe. Their chests touched, their breath mingled. 

He put a hand on Superman's "S" holding it there, feeling the heartbeat beneath before letting his fingers curl in and catch on the design. 

"In prison, if you're...like me..." he said the words as if they were sour. "You become owned."

"No...I'd never allow it," possessiveness swept over Clark. 

"Good. Okay. As I was saying...I will be owned, the question is: by whom? Since I assume you don't want to play prison dress up and stay here for the six months I have left to protect me...I suggest that you make it known that I am already owned...by you." 

If Lex had thought he'd seen Superman appear flustered before, it was nothing compared to now. He flushed from the tips of his ears down to the juncture of his suit. The only blue showing in his eyes was a thin band around an ocean of black. For a solid minute, Superman hadn't breathed. His chest literally stopped moving. Interesting. 

"We don't actually have to do anything," Lex supplanted. "But we can make it appear as though you and I are...a...thing."

"N...no..." he said weakly in a voice that was neither Superman's nor Clark's. "I...I can't have people think that..."

"That what? That you're gay?" 

"No, that's not it. I can't have them think that I'm...hurting you...that I'm, r--r--raping you or..."

"Oh, don't be silly, we would make it appear quite enjoyable." 

Clark's heart tripped in his chest. 

"I - but..."

"I guarantee you that no one would dare lay a hand on me if they thought that I belonged to you." 

"P-people don't belong to people."

"Yes, Clark, they do. In here anyway." 

"I...should think about this..." 

"What's there to think about?" Lex's face was so close to his now. He was taking his large hands in his own and putting them on his body. "Close your fists, make my clothes look wrinkled. 

That was easy enough. Clark did that. 

It wouldn't be enough though. 

"You've got quite the muscle strength, I bet you can easily give me a hickey," Lex tilted his head and exposed a long, pale neck. Superman could hear the rush of blood beneath it. The milky view was so expansive, the temptation was unbearable. He brought his lips to Lex's neck and kissed. He felt Luthor exhale a sigh of pleasure. His hands were still balled into the prison fabric, but his fingers opened. He held Lex at hip level as he lavished his neck in the same spot. 

Lex couldn't deny how turned on he was. He had been since their first meeting. Hell, he had been for the past decade. And seeing Superman worry about him getting beaten up? It sent chills through his body. 

Lex wanted to move forward, but Superman's fingers held him easily in place. So, unable to move, he brought a hand to the back of Superman's head, running his fingers through the silky chestnut hair. He was hard, there was no hiding that, not in a jumpsuit. 

Finally, Clark detached from his neck. "I would muss your hair or something, if I could," he grinned wickedly. 

"Oh, look who has jokes..." 

Lex began to unbutton the first buttons of his shirt and Clark looked nervously at the door. "What - what are you..." 

Luthor opened the top of the jumpsuit, exposing his white undershirt. "Rip it." 

"I - " Clark wanted to protest but didn't know how. His brain clawed to see beneath that obnoxious paper white to the more painted tones of Lex's flesh. 

"Rip it." 

Clark's hands came up to the fabric and pulled in opposite directions. The fabric gave way like it was tissue paper and Superman was left with a view of Lex's chest. Only...it wasn't the milky hue he had expected. Ugly purple and green bruises marred the surface of his flesh and another flash of fury made his blood rush in his ears. 

"Who did this?" he growled.

Lex was dizzy with Superman's possessiveness. Apparently, he was the only one allowed to lay his hands on Lex, and Lex rather liked that notion. 

"It doesn't matter." 

"It does."

"Why? All that matters is that it doesn't keep happening, and to prevent it, I'm going to need you to do something that you'll surely disagree with." 

"What's that?" 

Lex reached out and brought Superman's hand to his torso. Clark fanned out his fingers and let them slide down Lex's abs. 

Luthor realized that he was hard too. Interesting. He hadn't known that Clark - er - Superman, played for the other team. 

"I'm going to need you to brand me."

"What? No way!" Superman's hand fell back to his side.

"Shhh, keep your voice down."

Clark went to move, but Lex pulled him back. 

"Please, I'm begging you. If you use your laser vision..."

"It'll hurt." 

"I've already been hurt. I'm trying to avoid getting raped."

"It won't be a tattoo, there'll be no removing it..."

"I'm alright with that." 

Superman sputtered, his brain was shorting out. He was about to come in his spandex from the thought alone. 

"Please," Lex cupped his face. 'In a way, you already own me,' Lex thought. 'You always have.' 

Kent swallowed and bit his lip. Lex could sense the internal debate, so he crowded closer, his fingers on Superman's wrist. Lex's mouth was ghosting over the shell of his ear. "If you do this, they'll know that I'm taken, owned by the most powerful being on the planet." A visible shudder ran through Kent. "And I look forward to running my fingers over the scar as I jerk off at night. " 

Clark pushed him backwards, his thighs hitting the edge of the table, those strong hands returning to his hips as the mouth that left the hickey returned to the spot. The hickey was sanctioned, safe, and Clark devoured the spot, letting Lex rut against him. 

"Please..." Lex pleaded, grinding his erection into Superman's. 

Clark stopped just long enough to ask where he wanted it. 

Lex pushed him back a bit, which was tough to do since he wanted him closer. "Here," he said, pointing to an area above his left hipbone. 

"It'll hurt. You can't move as I do it, not at all. The level of control this requires..."

"Is something you possess I'm sure." 

Clark ground his teeth together, setting his jaw. 

"I'm going to hold your hips still with my hands." 

Lex nodded. "Do it." 

A brand. 

Superman was about to brand Lex Luthor. 

"How big?" 

"The size of a plum. Make it pretty." 

Clark nodded, shut his eyes and took several deep breaths. 

"You can't scream."

"I won't. I promise."

He nodded again and Lex watched as behind closed eyelids, his pupils glowed. Molten gold veins ran along his flawless skin, emanating from his eye sockets. It was a beautiful sight. He could even feel the heat. 

When Clark opened his eyes, they glowed and Lex felt pain spring to life. His body trembled, but Clark's hands steadied him. Plus, with super speed, Clark could correct for any movement on Lex's part - which was good - because as Superman etched the Superman symbol and his Kryptonian name into Luthor's flesh, Lex began to come. He moaned in pleasure, ejaculating into his prison jumpsuit with Superman's hands on his hips, his eyes searing his flesh, the smell filling the room. 

It was a struggle for Clark to control his heat vision as the realization hit him like a freight train that Lex was coming. He finished the symbol. He finished putting Kal-El beneath it. And he heaved a sigh of relief as the work was done. Lex was gulping in air, his body slumping against the table as Clark released him. He was quite a sight to see. 

Lex's cheeks were pink, his mouth glistening, parted and gasping. His neck sported a new hickey. His undershirt was gone. Superman's 'S' was on his hip along with his name. And the front of his jumpsuit was wet with his come. 

Luthor just lazily grinned, looking drunk and...happy. 

"Better throw in a bite for good measure," he said, pointing at his collarbone. Clark's gaze followed the digit and he found himself latching onto the vulnerable human flesh before he could even consider his actions. He lightly bit Lex there, and on his shoulder as well...Lex just cradling his head in the crook of Superman's shoulder, his hands on the alien's hips. Clark eventually pulled away and Lex reached for Clark's straining erection, a size-able damp spot making the navy blue of suit look black. 

Superman's breath halted again, the tiniest moan slipping from his lips as Lex rubbed the trapped cock. He was huge. Of course he was. 

But then, Clark backed away. 

"I...you should get back..." he motioned to the door with his head. 

Lex knew a rejection when he saw one.

"Oh...okay," he said, tying the arms of his jumpsuit around his waist. Blood was already traveling down his hip and leg. 

"Did it hurt a lot?" Superman sounded concerned. 

"Not at all," Lex said. 

Clark wanted to see it but it was obscured by the flowing blood. 

Lex wanted to say that Superman ought to come back and visit. But he didn't want to sound desperate. Superman clearly felt as though this were an obligation, not an enjoyment. 

"Stay safe Lex." 

Luthor nodded and shouted, "guard." 

The guard opened the door. He looked at Lex then Superman, then back. 

"It was consensual," Lex added with a purr and a wink, putting his hands out for the puzzled guard to cuff.


	4. Chapter 4

After Clark's latest visit with Lex, he was a bit...in crisis. He tried to convince himself that he was doing Lex a favor, that he'd done what he did to keep him safe. 

Most though, would wonder why he even cared what would happen to Luthor. He couldn't help it. They had been best friends once upon a time. He couldn't just throw Lex away like trash because he was difficult. He was strong and brilliant and funny...and...attractive. And he was in jail because of him. Sure...he was doing illegal things...

Whatever.

Clark tried hard not to think about their encounter, but it was a hard thing to put out of his mind. Lex was in his dreams, in his thoughts. Despite being locked up, Clark had never felt more haunted by the billionaire in his life. Those steel eyes looked into his soul during the midnight hours. Clark's sleep was fitful, so he stopped sleeping for a few days. He spent the next week flying around the world and saving as many people as possible. Hell, even Monster Energy called Superman asking if they could be his sponsor. Clark just gave them Barry Allen's Agent's number and hung up. 

A week after his rendevous with Lex, Clark's phone rang. The number was unlisted. He almost didn't answer.

"Kent." 

"Will you accept charges from Metropolis Correctional Prison?" A robot voice asked him. 

He stood suddenly, heart pounding, knocking an issue of the Daily Planet on the floor at his desk. 

"Yes." 

Click.

"Clark?" 

"Lex?" His voice was shaky and fearful. "Are you alright?" 

Luthor huffed a laugh. "For now I am, yes." 

Kent took a deep breath. He looked around, hoping none of his coworkers saw the near heart attack written on his face. Grasping for his chair, he sat. "What's going on?" 

"I'll cut to the chase," Lex spoke. "If I'm going to sell this whole - Superman owns me - thing...then you kind of have to come visit me every once in a while. Ask for a conjugal."

Clark's cheeks heated. 

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Kent said, fiddling with his favorite pen. 

"I see," Lex sounded sad and small. "I figured that you would regret this...arrangement," Lex added. "You are America's Boyscout afterall." 

"I don't...regret...I want you to be safe." 

"Getting me the hell out of here would be a good start."

"You know I can't do that Lex."

"You could, you just won't. That's besides the point though. I really need you to visit me Clark. That's it...just a visit. Once a week." 

Clark felt as though the walls were closing in around him. The room was hot, his throat was tight. In his mind's eye, Lex was standing before him, naked from the waist up. His eyes rolled back and closed as he came in his jumpsuit, Clark's heat burning his flesh - the rank smell of burning flesh filling the room. And the worst part...it turned Clark on. It turned him on so hard that he could have blacked out. He had run from that prison as fast as inhumanly possible, launching into the sky with such force that he ruined a parking lot. Above 40,000, he slipped his hand into his suit and took out his cock...replaying every. single. second. of what had just transpired.

Never had he felt the way he did that day. Not with Lana. Not with Lois. Not with anyone. He had an affection for Luthor that he hadn't even realized up to that point. And even worse - that affection could so easily tip and turn to something else; something like obsession, like love. 

"Earth to Kent..."

"I...I can't Lex, I'm sorry," he said. 

"But - Clark - plea..."

"Bye Lex," Clark hung up the phone a little too hard, breaking the receiver. His cock was straining against his pants at simply hearing Luthor's voice. What was he becoming? What had he already become?

Meanwhile, Lex held the receiver away from his face, staring at it as if it had committed an offense. He slammed it against the wall. 

"Super-boyfriend doesn't want to talk to his sweetheart?" the sicko behind him in line sneered. The rest of the fuckers in line for the phone began swearing at him, so he walked away. It wasn't often that Lex, the billionaire playboy who owned Metropolis, got told "no." And he certainly didn't like it.

Another week passed. Another week of tossing and turning at night for Clark. Another week of shoving down his thoughts and feelings. And...a week of answering "no" when his phone rang and the recording asked Clark if he would accept the charges. 

It was excruciating, not talking to Lex. Not seeing him. Leaving him hanging. How could Clark explain his crisis of conscience? Did Lex even have a conscience? If Luthor didn't hate him before, he surely would now. Truth be told, Clark hated himself even more. 

Lex was busy sitting in his cell, thinking of possible coups that could get Superman to visit. He could stab someone...or start a riot...or trigger a lockdown. The only problem was that he didn't want more time added to his sentence. Six months was bad enough. That's how they got you once you were in prison - fending for yourself, establishing yourself as a force rather than a victim - often involved hurting others. Hurting others led to solitary or longer sentences. He was smarter than that. Still, he was prepared to do something to go to solitary rather than face having his body violated. 

At first, the Superman angle had worked. Then his cellie and others began asking when his boyfriend with his cock of steel would come back. And he didn't come back. It was beginning to appear as though Lex had been abandoned, which was horrendously embarrassing, even more so since it was true. 

The threats on Lex's life and body were escalating. He was growing concerned, and the other inmates could smell fear. 

If Lex had to bet, he'd put his money on Mal's group. They were a motley crew of five white supremacists who had tried hard to recruit Lex. When that didn't work, they threatened his life and his virtue if Lex didn't put money into their bank accounts on the outside. Again, Lex refused. They eyed him often and threatened him even more. It was really only a matter of time. 

The biggest threats to Lex, the strongest, most dominant men, enjoyed beating the shit out of him. They hated Lex and all he stood for. They hated his money, his privilege, his smug looks and lithe body. They were all after his money. The guards stopped the beat-downs when they could, but one guard was particularly nasty. He'd turn the other way as the stronger men kicked and punched Luthor, descending upon him in a hail of fists and feet. 

The days and nights passed. Time stretched out in an unbearable and tortuous string of never ending torture. Everything was white, gray or orange. The food tasted the same. The crass language and beat downs were wearing on Lex's nerves. He didn't sleep much. When he did sleep, he had nightmares. He never cried though, even though he desperately wanted to. 

Three weeks.

Three weeks had gone by since Lex had seen Superman, since he'd received his brand. At night, he'd run his fingers over it and get hard instantly. He tried not to jerk off often, but it was a nice escape. 

+++

It had been three weeks and two days, Clark thought as he unwrapped his sandwich for dinner. He wasn't hungry. The quality of both Clark Kent's work and Superman's work had taken a nose-dive. He even nearly dropped a man he'd rescued from a building fire. It was embarrassing. The long and short of it was that Clark was depressed. He missed Lex fiercely, but he tried to remind himself that he didn't even really know Lex. He knew Lex from Smallville, but this new Lex...was he anything like the old one? Whether he was or not, the pair were diametrically opposed. How could Clark be so attracted to him?

"SUPERMAN!" he heard a familiar voice scream from afar. "SUPERMAN!"

Clark dropped his sandwich and ran from his apartment building. 

"SUPERMAN, HELP! HELP ME!" it was Lex. He was screaming. He sounded scared. 

Clark was terrified. He launched into the air with supersonic speed, damaging his apartment building. The sun was setting, the city below twinkled, but to him it was just a blur, an annoyance. He hurtled towards the prison, going faster than he ever had in his life. He landed in the parking lot with a smack and supersped past every security measure. Past the guest check in, past the guards - frozen in real time. He heated his eyes, bent the bars to get through, bent them back in place before continuing on. He paused for a moment among the cells to listen, to scan the building with his x-ray vision. 

There. 

The showers. 

He flung himself forward at superspeed once more and arrived in a showering area that reminded him of high school gym. The filthy space was occupied by six people, one of whom was Lex. He was naked...face down on the dirty tile floor. A large man was sitting on his back, holding his arms captive. Another man was on his right, a different on his left, both holding one leg open. A tile bump up separating the showers was wedged above his limp cock - propping his ass up. A man was behind him, fingers touching Lex's hole and lining himself up. The last man was standing, pumping his cock. 

The world stopped. Everything went red. Superman slowed to real time and screamed at the top of his lungs. The sound was so loud that it nearly burst every human's eardrums in the space. Each of the five men turned sheet white at the sight of a furious Superman, eyes glowing red, hands balled in fists. They tried to scramble away, scatter like cockroaches, but Superman easily stopped them. 

One he flung into the tiles so hard, they shattered behind him. The one who was on Lex's back, holding his arms, Superman broke that guy's legs. He also snapped one leg each of the two men who had been holding Lex's legs apart. He slammed the one who stood, priming his cock, into the tiles, head first. And finally, the last one, the one who had his hands on Lex's... he had him up by the throat. 

All of this happened in less than two seconds. The men's screams filled the air, bouncing off the yellowish tiles. "HOW DARE YOU!" Superman screamed into the man's terrified face that he hand by the neck. This time, the sound did shatter one of that man's ear drums and he began crying. "HOW DARE YOU TOUCH HIM," he shook. His eyes still glowed red and unshed tears sizzled as they were boiled up by the heat. Three of the showers were still turned on and blood and water mixed as they ran down the drain. 

Lex was coughing, turning over on the tiles, his body colored by more bruises. Superman looked at him, his lips quivering, then back at the man trapped under his deadly hand. 

He seriously considered snapping his neck. Ending his life. Ending all of their lives. 

"I should kill you," he said quietly. The man's dick was now limp and pissing onto his leg. 

"Don't...please," he pleaded. "I'm begging you."

"Why should I listen to your begging? Why? When you didn't listen to Lex's?" 

The man just choked and cried and sputtered, snot running down his nose. None of the other men dared to utter a word. One was attempting to crawl away. Superman's head snapped in his direction. "Move and I'll kill you, I'll fucking light you on fire with my eyes!" The man stopped, his hands up, nodding his understanding. 

"C - Superman..." Lex caught himself, his voice was watery with unshed tears and something snapped in Superman's soul. His face drew up in a snarl as he looked at the offender under his hands. He punched the wall next to the man's head, fist going straight through tile and concrete and steel. His eyes unleashed fire to the right of his head, making the porcelain tile pop and explode. He pulled his hand free of the wall and drew it back. The man braced himself for his death. 

"You'll regret it if you kill them," Lex said suddenly, even though he wanted...he wanted them dead. But he - he put Superman first - put him above what he wanted. 

Superman's brows knitted, eyes stopping glowing and returning to blue. Tears gathering in them. He stared at Lex, and then at the man.

He punched the man who he had been choking, but not nearly as hard as he wanted. He punched him at human strength. Punched him and kicked him once he slid down the wall and picked him up, flinging him across the room like a rag doll into a concrete pillar. He walked to each man and beat them up - one at a time, relishing the sound of their cries, their snapping bones and the smell of copper. 

Lex just watched the proceedings, pushing himself up on shaky arms. 

All of the men were unconscious now. Superman rushed towards Lex, crashing down to his knees, their impact breaking the tile. His face was quivering and tears were pouring from his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, horror in his eyes. "I'm so fucking sorry Lex. I got scared. I'm a coward. Such a fucking coward," his chest heaved. His hands were upturned, but he didn't want to touch Lex, didn't want to invade his space even though he desperately wanted to grasp him, hold him. "You should hate me. You should hurt me," Superman's voice split. His hands rose, then fell, then rose again, only to fall again. He was at such a loss. Finally, he ran the back of his fingers against Lex's bruised face. He expected Lex to recoil, to slap him, to hit him, but he didn't. 

In fact, Lex turned into the touch. 

"I almost killed them," Superman admitted. 

"I know," Lex held onto the strong hand at his face. 

He thought briefly, that he ought to be tougher. He ought to be angrier at Superman, but he wasn't. He couldn't be what he thought he ought to be in this moment. Instead, he climbed into Superman's lap and held onto him tightly beneath the now cold spray of the shower. 

"Never," he felt Superman's breath hot against his neck, "I'll never let anyone hurt you again. You're mine. As long as you want to be, you're mine." 

Clark's hearing picked something up. Guards were coming. Lex just clung to him tighter. 

"I want to get you out of here Lex." 

Luthor's heart leapt but he knew it was for naught. 

"You can't," Lex said bitterly. 

"It's because of me that you're in here." 

"I know...but you can't go around the legal system, you can't just break me out. They'll know it was you." 

"I don't care," Superman said, his voice sounding childlike and rebellious. 

"You need the people to love you - not fear you - or your entire...everything...would be over."

"Then I'll petition to get you released early."

"Just make sure you go through the proper channels Clark," Lex's teeth clattered. The water had gone very cold. Superman looked up at the shower head and turned his heat vision on it. The water warmed and Lex relaxed against him. 

"It's bad enough that you've..." he looked around, failing to finish the sentence. "You could get in serious trouble. Or I will." 

"No," Superman grit. "This was me and I'll take responsibility for it." 

"They could lock you up," Lex said with fear in his voice. "If they knew your weakness..."

"They don't," Superman supplied. 

"But Batman does, and he doesn't like you much." 

Clark stared at Lex in wonder. "We've actually grown closer. He would never... Plus, I think the guards are just twisted enough to like the idea of me hurting these...guys." 

"Still, I should get out of your lap," Lex squirmed away and Clark instantly missed his heat and closeness. The pair stood. The guards stormed in. 

"What the hell happened?" one of them shouted, hand on his gun, even though it wouldn't do any good.

Superman cleared his throat and stood prostrate in his most daunting pose. "These...scum..." he motioned to the human wreckage around him, "were about to rape Lex. Luthor called for me and I came. They attacked me and I gave them what they deserved." 

The guards exchanged glances. 

"Do you have a problem with that? With me beating up a bunch of criminals, rapists? Are you fond of them?" 

"Wh - no. No." 

"Good," Superman said, sauntering towards them. The guards tried to suppress looks of fear. The entire bathroom was smattered with blood.

"They're still alive?" 

Superman chuckled, "of course they're alive." Superman's heartbeat rang out in his ears as he considered doing something bad...asking the guards not to mention this. 

"We'll need to do an incident report," one guard mentioned. 

"Please," Superman extended an upturned hand. "Lex could have gotten killed and...and do you really want me - getting in trouble? For beating up that human trash that was about to rape him?" his tone soured. "Not to mention...how does it make the prison look? That Lex Luthor was about to be raped on your watch? The last thing you guys need is a lawsuit or bad press." 

"Alright," the guard in front said. "We'll think of some way to justify all this."

"Good. Thank you."

Lex was still standing behind Superman, shivering, naked. Clark turned, took his cape off and wrapped Lex in it. The pair walked silently with the guards down the corridor and Superman made damn sure to walk with his arm around the cape-clad Lex, so that no offender would have any doubt about who he belonged to. 

"We'll take him," one guard said, "get him fresh clothes, checked out by the infirmary. Thank you Superman," the guard stuck his hand out and Clark shook it. Superman sighed, "can I talk to him, just for a moment? Make sure he's alright?" he spoke softly. 

"Sure." 

Lex and Superman entered into a private room. 

Luthor was bruised, tired, still wet like Superman. He grasped the cape around him tightly. Superman shuffled towards him slowly. "Can I...hug you?" 

"Yes," Lex said, a bit too quickly, and Superman's strong arms came around him. Clark kissed Lex's temple, his bruised eyebrow, the bridge of his nose, and Lex moved his head to line his mouth up with Clark's. But he didn't kiss him, not yet. 

"I don't want you to pity me," Lex said suddenly. "I don't want you to look at me and see a victim."

"Oh, Lex...I don't. Not at all. You're the strongest person I know," Clark admitted. 

Lex nodded. His eyes were trained on Superman's lips. 

"I'd like to come back tonight. Spend the night in your cell with you."

Luthor looked surprised. 

"I doubt the guards would allow that." 

"They don't have to know," Superman whispered, wrapping him back into the same hug. Lex was nuzzling his head against his neck, his fingers digging into Superman's suit. Clark brought his lips to the spot on Lex's neck where he had first planted a hickey, and kissed it. Lex groaned in approval. 

The door opened, the main guard entering, but Clark and Lex took their time breaking apart. 

Clark looked at the guard, "can he keep the cape? Use it as a blanket?" 

"Sure, why not?" 

Good. The guards had the same level of hero-worship for Superman that the general public did. 

Superman cupped Lex's face before turning and leaving.


End file.
